Transitus Aetas
by bleedcolor
Summary: Harry time travels back to the time his father was a student. Forced to remain at Hogwarts for a while, Harry pretends to be just another student. He needs some information, but he has a hard time finding anyone to trust..RemusHarry Slash! R&R! Chp4 UP!
1. Chapter I

Title: Transitus Aetas  
  
Author: Batling  
  
Rating: PG-13, for now  
  
Pairings: Harry/Remus  
  
Summary:Harry time travels back to the time his father was a student. Forced to remain at Hogwarts for a while, Harry pretends to be just another student. He needs some information, but he has a hard time finding anyone to trust: Sirius is too rash, James is a worse prick than Draco Malfoy, and Peter might be harboring treacherous thoughts already...so who to trust?  
  
Notes: This was written in response to a challenge on The Mortal Moon A Harry/Remus Fuh-Q-Fest (http://www.mortal-moon.org/mm/rules.htm), but, uh, they don't know that yet ^_~ ANYwho. My first HP fanfic, the longest fanfic I've ever written, even if I just leave it at this chapter, which I don't plan to do!! I would LOVE to have feedback if any of you would be so kind, *__* I'll give cyber pocky to anyone who reviews... Hope you enjoy...  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own or make profit from Harry Potter. JK Rowling does. Hell, I barely own this plotline, I actually kind of stole the plot bunny...  
  
WARNING: THIS FIC WILL CONTAIN SLASH, MALE/MALE RELATIONSHIPS, SPECIFIcALLY HARRY/REMUS. IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT, GO READ SOMETHING ELSE.  
  
Chapter 1:  
  
Harry watched the scenery racing by, outside of the train window with rampant excitement. This was it, his last year at Hogwarts, and his last as a child. He'd never have to see the Dursleys again if he so desired.  
  
Certainly not everything was rainbows and butterflies, Voldemort was still out there somewhere, lurking and waiting to spring at the most inopportune moment, but just for now everything was going Harry's way. Nothing overly awful - unless you counted Malfoy - had happened during 6th year, no peep of Voldemort or his death-eating followers, and Harry was confident - in the way only a teenager can be - that nothing would spoil this year.  
  
Currently, the Boy-Who-Lived was alone in his train car; Hermione and Ron were off somewhere having mentioned something about a meeting with the prefects, and he was contemplating the things he would do this year.   
  
Starting off with being quidditch captain this year and including extra studies in Defense Against the Dark Arts, seeing as that Professor Lupin was back again for his second year in a row. Something that no one currently attending the wizarding school could remember happening before. None of Harry's seven years had the same DADA teacher two times in a row, and although Professor Lupin had taught twice before, it hadn't been consecutively.  
  
Harry was glad, however, to have his favorite teacher returned to Hogwarts a third time. It was nice to have familiar faces around him, in a way, since he was still insecure about the people he cared about leaving him. And the werewolf professor was all he had left, unless he spontaneously grew a significant other anytime soon. Which, undoubtedly, wasn't going to happen. Still, this year was going to be the best year ever. Girlfriend, boyfriend or no.   
  
Maybe this year he'd actually figure out which of the two he would prefer to have, he mused silently. Maybe this year, someone would figure out if they'd prefer to have him. In Little Whinging the near five inch growth spurt he'd gone through at the beginning of the summer -leaving him at an impressive 1m 88 (6'2") height- had done little to impress anyone, as nearly everyone was still believed the story his uncle had spread about him when he'd first began Hogwarts.   
  
If he actually cared about what the muggles of Privet Drive thought of him, he might be a little depressed. As it was, though, he had too much to look forward to care. This year was sure to be fun-filled and action-packed, complete with exciting adventures --hopefully ones without Voldemort or any other type of calamity that seemed to follow Harry around like a lost puppy.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
A few weeks into the term, Harry sighed, looking out of the Hogwarts' library window. Today was turning into something that seemed like it was going to be long and boring, just as the previous days had been so far. So much for this year being fun and exciting.  
  
At breakfast Dumbledore had announced that all classes were canceled and in a typically Dumbledore manner, he had declined to offer anyone any reasons as to why said classes were canceled.  
  
Not that any of the students really cared, they were looking forward to a day of outside fun away from studies. That is, they were looking forward to it until Hagrid walked into the great hall, soaking wet.  
  
Rain. A harsh fall rainstorm had hit Hogwarts unexpectedly. Normally, of course, this would do nothing to deter young witches and wizards from having fun and enjoying their free day.  
  
However, storms at the school were always far from normal and had been happening more frequently this year than any year that the older grades remembered and never as fierce as this storm was. There weren't many brave enough to chance their health in the cold, biting wind, ice, and rain.  
  
Actually, pretty much no one was. Even Hagrid wouldn't risk going back to his own cabin. Then, if it wasn't bad enough that he had to acknowledge the fact that he was stuck inside all day, on the back of his neck Harry had felt the all too familiar prickle of eyes that always came with these recent storms.  
  
Knowing, before he bothered to turn, who was staring at him, Harry gave a soft little exhale of air and turned to face Professor Lupin. Who, just as he had suspected, staring at Harry wearing that odd, heartbroken dog that's been kicked too many times look or even the look people wear when they get lost in old memories.  
  
Before the Boy-Who-Lived hadn't too much time to dwell on it, however, Hermione had dragged he and Ron off to the library, because of course this was the 'perfect opportunity to study and get ahead'.  
  
So, here he was sitting in one of the many window seats in the library a book loosely held in his fingers. Ron huffed out a sigh from where he was sitting at a study table a few feet away from Harry and Hermione across from the red head had her nose buried in a book.  
  
Harry turned at the soft dispelling of air and smiled, amused by his friend's silent suffering. Completely distracted by Ron's antics his thoughts slipped from his mind as he focused on not laughing out loud at Ron who was trying to get his lanky form to adjust to not being in constant motion.  
  
The more he wiggled uncomfortably in his chair, the more frustrated with himself the red head got, and the more frustrated he became the redder his cheeks turned. It was somewhat of a vicious circle, really, but it was rather amusing to Harry even if Ron probably didn't agree.  
  
Finally, after about ten minutes of the youngest male Weasley's fidgeting, Hermione closed her book with a thump.  
  
"It's quite obvious, Ron, that you're bored. And if I know Harry, he probably is too. And with the two of you fidgeting and ruining my concentration, I'll never be able to get any proper studying done. So what do you two propose we do to fill up our day?"  
  
Harry briefly considered protesting Hermione's 'fidgeting' remark. He hadn't fidgeted at all. Perhaps he had been a little mopey, but certainly not fidgety. Casting a glance at Ron who looked hopeful at the chance to escape the library he brushed the comment off and shrugged his shoulders, sliding off of the window seat and making his way towards the table his friends sat at.  
  
"I dunno. Personally, there isn't really much we could do to keep us occupied. What do you think, Ron?"  
  
"I dunno, Harry..." Ron trailed off looking to be deep in thought. "We could play chess...?" he offered tentively after a moment.  
  
"Ron, mate, you always win! That's no fun! It's like me suggesting poker..." Harry trailed off thoughtfully.  
  
"He's right, you know, Ron. If we're going to spend our afternoon doing something frivolous it may as well be something frivolous and exciting! Something no one in the history of Hogwarts has ever done!" Hermione said, a distinctly Gryffindor gleam appearing in her eyes.  
  
Ron frowned, a bit peeved that his first idea had been steamrolled so thoroughly. He had wanted to go to Hogsmeade when Dumbledore had first made the announcement that classes were canceled because he was running low on sweets, but with it raining so heavily...  
  
"I've got it!" Ron exclaimed, albeit quietly not wanting to draw Madame Pince's attention. "We can go to Honeydukes using the one-eyed witch's passage!!" Ron was reluctant to say exactly what passage very loudly in case someone was close enough to overhear, so he lowered his voice to a whisper. There were ears in the wizarding world even when no one was around.   
  
He turned and looked at Hermione who didn't look as excited about the idea as he himself did. "Well, it might not be something that no one's done but it's more than most have!"  
  
It was Harry who shot down Ron's idea, instead of Hermione, once again.   
  
"That would be all fine and well, Ron, but that passage has been watched very closely ever since Snape took the Marauder's map."  
  
"Bugger," Ron groaned disappointedly. He really, really wanted to go get those sweets. "Well there's got to be some way to get through there or even another way to Honeydukes. Another Hogsmeade weekend isn't due for a month!"  
  
"I've got it!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly, "We can explore the castle! Look around and discover new passages, see if maybe we can find our way around without the map and maybe -just maybe- we can make another map for future students to use. Obviously, it's something that we won't finish today, but we've got nearly the entire year and Christmas Hols to explore Hogwarts. And we do know quite a few secret passages from all the exploration we've done already…"  
  
Hermione took an excited breath preparing to convince her two friends if it were needed before either boy had the chance to protest, if they had indeed wanted to; however, she thought of something else.  
  
"Besides if we don't find enough passages to make a map we could always just find a really old, abandoned chamber and make this thing I was reading about in Muggle Studies called a time capsule! It's really great, you put things that are important to you or about you in a box or safe, something time proof although we can just charm it to keep it from aging too badly. Anyway you put something like a journal or a medal in it and then people in the future find it and they learn about you and the things you did. Not that people won't already know about you, Harry, but you could start a journal this year telling your side of the past years at Hogwarts and then people could learn about the real you and not the Boy-Who-Lived."  
  
When Hermione paused again for much needed air Ron opened his mouth to mention the thing that had been on his mind throughout her speech. Hermione, seeing his slight action, rolled her eyes and answered his question before he could ask.  
  
"Yes, Ron, we can look for another passage to Hogsmeade."  
  
Ron flushed a bit at being so easy to read, but his embarrassment was quickly washed away and replaced with excitement for the newly formed scheme.  
  
"I think it's a brilliant plan, 'mione! What do you think Harry?"  
  
Harry had been mostly silent throughout the conversation but grinned when he was given an entrance back into it.   
  
"It's bloody great!" Harry exclaimed, emerald eyes alight with excitement at the thought of doing something, or close to something, that his father had once done and all thoughts of boredom and of melancholy lycanthrope professors vanished. "And there are should be one more passage to Hogsmeade, Ron. I remember the Fred and George mentioning seven of them. Four that Filch knew about and three that he didn't, the witch and the passage under the whomping willow I know about, but I never bothered looking for the other on the map."   
  
Hermione grinned proud that she had come up with an idea that Harry and Ron whole heartedly agreed with and cracked her knuckles.  
  
"Well then, boys, lets get started!"   
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The rainy Fall quickly turned into a cold, just as rainy, winter which in turn moved into a Christmas without snow although plenty of ice and water to go around.  
  
The time seemed to pass even more quickly for seventh year Hogwarts students than it did in reality, between studying for their N.E.W.T.s and, for three certain students, exploring the castle that had been their home for the better part of seven years. All their time was used up and moved forward much more quickly than they would have liked.  
  
Although still at times, to Harry, it seemed to slow to a turtle's pace. This happened most often when Harry caught the heartbroken looks on Professor Lupin's face and afterwards spent the slow day torturing himself, pondering the meaning of it all.  
  
Still, all in all, time had passed much more quickly than any of the three friends remembered it passing in earlier years. No matter how much they wished time would slow, Christmas was upon them before they believed it possible.  
  
Harry sat at breakfast the first day after most other students had left Hogwarts to be home for Christmas. Ron and Hermione had stayed at the school as well but both were still asleep, Harry having woken up before them, so the Boy-Who-Lived was at the Gryffindor table alone except for a second year that sat at the opposite end of the table.  
  
Harry had been about to invite the younger student over to sit with him when he felt a familiar tingle along the nape of his neck. He turned to look at the professor who returned in Harry's sixth year to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts.  
  
The amber-gold eyes that met his still had the melancholy cast that they had held for months now about them but now also held a resigned look as if maybe the professor were finally getting over whatever had caused him so much heartbreak. The werewolf almost seemed to carry an air of hopelessness with him now.  
  
Before Harry had too much time to think on it however he saw Snape walk over to his favorite professor and mutter something into his ear. Something that, judging from the anger and hurt that clouded Lupin's eyes, was completely malicious and Snape-like. The Potions professor, however, took no pleasure in whatever it was he had said and walked away an expression of extreme displeasure on his features.  
  
Harry stood, spurred by his curiosity, to go and find out what exactly had been said to the Defense professor to upset him so badly. He didn't have time to move from his spot; however, before Hermione appeared in front of him with a large dusty tome held in her arms.  
  
"You'll never believe what I've found, Harry!" She slammed the book down onto the table and pulled it open with no little amount of effort.  
  
"I woke up this morning to study some, and to free up the day for exploring because I can't really be expected to neglect my studies entirely…" Hermione trailed off flipping pages furiously, her every motion exuding excitement.  
  
Harry smiled, watching her. So much for thinking that she had actually slept in for once in her school career. Some things just never change, he mused. Briefly, he turned his head intending to use Hermione's distraction with the book to do what he had originally stood up for, and frowned when he found that Professor Lupin was no longer anywhere to be seen in the Great Hall.  
  
"Here it is!" Hermione exclaimed and Harry turned back to face his friend.  
  
"Here what is?" He asked, curious as to what she was so elated about.  
  
Hermione spun the book around on the table to face Harry and tapped the page with her finger.   
  
"Here. I was researching that paper due in History of Magic on the construction of magical castles and ran across this!" The studious Gryffindor explained as Harry studied the book that lay open in front of him.  
  
"It's not really an entire map," she continued, "but it does show a few passages I've certainly never seen before."  
  
"Hermione, this is ruddy brilliant! C'mon, let's go and wake Ron."  
  
Harry gathered the book, carefully keeping it open to the correct place and set off towards Gryffindor tower with Hermione in tow.  
  
Half an hour later found the three friends walking in the opposite direction. They carefully followed the map they had magically copied from the book Hermione had discovered, since the book itself had been too large and bulky to carry around with them.  
  
"It shows that there should be a turn to the left exactly where that wall is..."  
  
"But...there's a wall there."  
  
"Obviously, Ron. What, do you think we didn't notice?"  
  
"No need to get your knickers in a twist..."   
  
Hermione made an affronted sound and whacked Ron with the map that she held. "You hush about my knickers, Ronald Weasley, or by the time I'm finished with you, you'll need to be wearing knickers yourself!"  
  
"Ow, fine. Did you have to hit me?" Ron rubbed his head glaring at Hermione from the corner of his eye.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Hmph."  
  
Harry absentmindedly listened to his friends bicker good naturedly and examined the wall in front of him. It was as normal as any Hogwarts wall ever was, actually it was pretty plain as Hogwarts walls went. Nothing but a painting of a forest on a moonlit night. That in itself was fairly odd, actually, this was the only picture Harry had ever seen at Hogwarts that didn't have someone in it and, for that matter, didn't move at all.  
  
"How odd..."  
  
"What's that, Harry?" Ron looked up from his argument with Hermione.  
  
"This picture," Harry tapped it with his finger, "I've never seen anything like it anywhere else in the castle."   
  
"What do you mean, Harry?" Hermione moved closer to get a look.  
  
"Well, for one thing, it doesn't move, and for another, it's only a landscape! I've only ever seen potraits on the walls before, have you ever seen anything else?"  
  
Ron studied the picture from where he stood. "You're right, mate. It is odd for a landscape to be up there. Really, it's odd for a landscape to be anywhere in the wizarding world." He took a step forward to get a closer look. "You see, wizards don't appreciate art as much as Muggles. I mean, obviously, if we wanted to go see something we could just apparate or portkey over and see it. And we prefer to capture animated life, not really plants and things. Unless they're magical plants or something."  
  
"That's a shame, Ron. It really is a beautiful painting, the full moon especially adds to it's serene effect," Hermione mused then followed up her statement with a short yelp of shock as the wall seemingly slid away to reveal a small, musty, obviously unused for quite a while, room.  
  
"Great job, 'Mione!" Harry exclaimed, eyes wide and excited behind his glasses.  
  
"Bloody brilliant," Ron added.  
  
Hermione smoothed her hair, looking a bit unruffled by the sudden turn of events. "Well," she said when she had finally calmed herself enough to speak, "I must have inadvertantly said the password..." She looked up to notice that neither of the two boys she was with were paying attention to her, instead they were walking into the newly discovered room. "Are you two nutters? There could be curses or traps in there!"  
  
"Oh, come off it, Hermione. This is Hogwarts, you know. I'm sure that there's some kind of spell preventing curses being put on there rooms," Ron rolled his eyes, "Merlin knows there's spells preventing everything else. It's not dangerous, Dumbledore wouldn't allow anything dangerous here."  
  
Hermione snorted. "Oh, so there wasn't anything dangerous about a three headed dog guarding the Sorceror's Stone first year, right Ron?"  
  
Ron blushed a bit. "Relax, would you? The room is practically empty, and we do know enough spells to be able to take decent care of ourselves if something does happen. We aren't complete idiots, you know," he said a bit condescendingly as he stepped into the room.  
  
Hermione noted that Harry was already in the room and sighed, knowing that it was practically impossible to talk to them when they were both in agreeance on something and entered the room as well.  
  
"It's really dusty in here..." Harry spoke for the first time since entering the room as he ran his finger across a desk leaving a trail of gleaming wood in it's wake.  
  
"I imagine this room has been closed up for ages," Hermione replied.  
  
"Hey, there's a box of stuff back here," Ron called from the corner of the room, kneeling by an open box, one hand rifling through it interestedly.  
  
Hermione crossed the room to join him while Harry continued his own perusal of the room, investigating the drawers of the desk, then after that going through the wardrobe that sat in the corner.   
  
It seemed strange to him that they were both in the same room and he wondered if perhaps this room had been used for storage at one time. When his search of the room turned up fairly fruitless he returned his attention to his two friends to find that they were again squabbling, a large book held inbetween them.  
  
Harry crossed the room and squatted down next to where they were sitting on the floor.   
  
"What's that?" he motioned to the book that seemed to be the cause of this latest disagreement.  
  
Hermione yanked the book away from Ron and slammed it shut. "Nothing."  
  
Ron glared at her and pulled the book away from her before forcefully shoving it at Harry.   
  
"Look. Sixth page, fourth row, third picture."  
  
Harry frowned. So they were fighting over a photo album? That didn't make much sense but Harry flipped through pages as instructed, getting caught for a couple of seconds on the first page seeing his parents and Sirius waving up at him.  
  
"Ron! Why'd you do that? It couldn't possibly be him, there's NO WAY!"  
  
"Sorry to burst your prissy little bubble, Hermione, but there's no way it couldn't be! It looks exactly like him, scar and all!"  
  
Before Harry could ask what in the world they were going on about, he found the picture that Ron had directed him to and stared. Stared directly at himself, his mum and dad, Sirius, and Lupin in the same picture.  
  
"BLOODY HELL." His eyes were fixed on the picture. "That's me!"  
  
Ron looked smug. "Told you so."  
  
"Harry, there's no way that could be you! That picture was obviously taken over twenty years ago," Hermione protested.  
  
Her protests fell on deaf ears, however, as Harry dazedly reached lifted a hand and brushed it over the picture, affirming to himself that it was in fact real. The second his hand connected with the smooth glossy surface Harry knew something wasn't right. He looked up at his friends, his emerald green eyes widening in horror, as something stabbed through him and his sight was covered in white light, and then he knew no more. 


	2. Chapter II

Title: Transitus Aetas Chp. 2  
  
Author: batling  
  
Pairing: Remus/Harry  
  
Summary: Summary:Harry time travels back to the time his father was a student. Forced to remain at Hogwarts for a while, Harry pretends to be just another student. He needs some information, but he has a hard time finding anyone to trust: Sirius is too rash, James is a worse prick than Draco Malfoy, and Peter might be harboring treacherous thoughts already...so who to trust?  
  
Rated: Um...PG13, for now?  
  
Author's Note: Ok, this is back and revised. No big changes that should mess up the general idea if you read it before, but enough to (hopefully) make it a bit simpler to read. Hope you all enjoy! This chapter: Harry wakes up, at Hogwarts? And he gets sorted? What's going on? BWAHAHAHA!!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own or make any profit from Harry Potter.  
  
WARNING: THIS FIC WILL CONTAIN OR IMPLY SLASH, MALE/MALE RELATIONSHIPS, SPECIFIcALLY HARRY/REMUS. IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT, GO READ SOMETHING ELSE.  
  
Chapter 2:  
  
Remus Lupin was walking slowly around the school grounds, in the middle of a winter rainstorm, trying to think. It really wasn't the best time to be outside, he knew, even with a water proofing charm on himself and his robes, there was still the bitter wind and huge puddles of rapidly collecting rainwater to contest with.  
  
He really couldn't help himself, though. Sometimes he just had to get out of the suppressing castle and have a breath of fresh air and time to think, away from the students. Even if he risked sickness to get this bit of peace and quiet, he didn't really regret being out and away from the few students at Hogwarts over the Christmas Holidays.  
  
Although sick was the last thing he needed to be around this time of the month. By the end of the week he would feel horrible enough without adding a cold to his troubles. Still, it almost seemed worth it, the solitude was nice sometimes as he rarely ever seemed to be able to get away from the other Marauders to have time to himself.  
  
He slowly trailed his way around the lake and passed the Whomping Willow, throwing it a distasteful glance. He hated the thing, really. It was a privilege to be able to come to Hogwarts, to train to be a wizard, but sometimes it really seemed like a high cost. He was chained like an animal nearly once a month -twice if it were a blue moon- in the Shrieking Shack.  
  
Of course, it did come down to the fact that he was an animal nearly once a month. A mindless one at that. And, truthfully, he didn't always stay in the Shack. Not often at all, actually. The Marauders came with him and they explored the Forbidden Forest most of the time. That actually made it seem worse, really.  
  
To have witnesses to the mindlessness that overtook him every full moon. To know that his friends were probably disgusted everytime he ripped apart some animal simply for the rush of the kill. It was all too much sometimes. He never could tell what they thought about it, but how could they not be sickened by him, when he, himself, was?  
  
In a way, he supposed, his dislike of the Whomping Willow and Shrieking Shack stemmed from his dislike of himself, but that didn't mean he wanted to admit the fact just yet. The Nile was more than just a river in Egypt, after all. So, Remus stayed as far away from the distasteful plant and passage under it as possible, whenever possible.   
  
He rounded the path along the lake, intending to go back to the school, and perhaps warm up a bit in front of the Gryffindor common room fire. Before he was able to take more than a few steps with his intended path in mind, however a blinding light obscured his vision and he was thrown into the air, only to land in a puddle of icy water on his back.  
  
He lay there for a few moments, somewhat stunned until the wet, along with the cold, started seeping through his charms and, consequently, his robes. Sitting up, he shook his head, attempting to clear it as he was not quite sure what had just happened. Finally, he stood, when he figured he was steady enough to, and glanced around to figure out if he'd been struck by lightning or if something or someone else had happened.   
  
Remus hoped that it wasn't the latter option, he didn't like dueling much for one, and also he had no knowledge of whatever had just thrown him a good ten feet in the air and onto his arse. Cautiously, he again began heading towards the school, still surveying the land around him. He'd gotten back to the point where he'd been when tossed into the air when he saw him.   
  
A rumpled heap of robes and unmistakable messy black hair. James?! He rushed towards the person, whom he assumed was his friend, although he didn't really know how it could be. James and Sirius had gone home to the Potter's for Christmas, why would James be here, unconcious on Hogwarts' grounds?  
  
When the werewolf reached the body, he realized that while this person looked very much like James from a few feet away, nearly identical, in fact, and looked almost the same standing right beside him as well, this wasn't James Potter. Prongs, for one, had a different type of frames on his glasses, more oval, while this boy's glasses were round and James, as far as Remus knew, had never had a jagged lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead, either. Looking closely, Remus noted other minute differences as well. Fuller lips, slightly higher cheek bones, and if he were to hazard a guess, this boy was just the slightest bit taller than his friend.  
  
Another critical eyeing over perceived the symbol of the Gryffindor house on his robes the werewolf and couldn't contain his bewilderment at all. This boy couldn't be in his house, Remus had never seen him before in his lifetime, and it would be hard to miss someone who looked nearly exactly like one of his best friends. Feeling more and more confused, he reached out cautiously and shook the boy's shoulder.  
  
"Hey...hey, wake up!" the werewolf hissed, unreasonably angry at this unconcious person who looked so much like one of his best friends.  
  
Eyes fluttered open behind the lenses of his glasses opening only barely long enough for Remus to get a good look at the vibrant emerald color. Well, if nothing else, that definately settled that this wasn't James Potter. The bright green eyes then fluttered closed again, a soft sigh and two words pushing past his lips.  
  
Remus felt even more baffled, if possible as he watched the boy relax into oblivion again. How on earth would he know his last name? And why would he attach 'Professor' onto it? Thoughts chased themselves around in circles in his mind, confounding him more and more each second. He didn't think he should go and get a teacher, and leave this boy here, he might very well not be there when they returned, and he didn't know enough about medicine to know if it were safe to move him.   
  
After all this boy could very well have his back broken or something equally horrible and if Remus were to move him it might do even more damage. Finally the perturbed werewolf did something he could only remember doing once before in his lifetime, really he could only recall that experience foggily, as if in a dream, but he did recall it and once again fell back on the tactic, knowing that it would bring immediate reactions if done correctly. So, he threw back his head and screamed bloody murder, hoping that there was a teacher somewhere close in the vicinity.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Harry was floating, at least, that's what it felt like to him. It was a somewhat pleasant sensation, and it unnerved him a bit. He knew this was a dream, it was to pleasant for it not to be, nothing like this would ever happen to him in real life. And yet, it was nearly too pleasant to be a dream since nothing but nightmares had haunted his sleep since 5th year. Unfortunately, along with the wonderful floating sensation, it felt as though there were an intense gaze upon him.   
  
He wondered vaguely if it were Professor Lupin, as he faintly remembered being spoken to by someone that sounded exactly like his Defense professor, and yet not quite. The werewolf had almost sounded angry, and Harry had never really heard that anger directed at him before, at least not that he could recall. Professor Lupin had only been a part of this increasingly strange dream of his though, he was sure.   
  
How else could Harry explain the instance of his Professor appearing Harry's own age, if only for a second or two before fading out of sight? He supposed he'd simply been looking at the photo album Hagrid had given him at the end of second year too often, and that was spurring strange dreams. However, it was actually nice to have a break from the nightmares for once, now if only that bloody burning 'I'm being watched' sensation would disappear!   
  
It was beginning to intrude very forcefully into his dream, and Harry wasn't happy about that fact. It was rare he got a good night's sleep and some insufferable prat was ruining this one. Finally, he could take it no longer and let a soft snarl loose from his lips his eyes automatically opening into a glare wanting to know who dared disturb his treasured sleep.  
  
His expression of annoyance automatically melded into surprise, however, when he met the twinkling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. An Albus Dumbledore that looked very nearly twenty years younger than the one he knew was sitting beside his bed. Harry barely kept his jaw from dropping. What in the name of Merlin was going on?  
  
"P-professor? Professor Dumbledore?"  
  
"Ah," the Headmaster raised his eyebrow at Harry. "You seem to have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, and yet I have no recollection of yours, Mister...?" The older wizard trailed off, giving Harry an opening to introduce himself.  
  
For his part, Harry simply stared at the wizard at his bedside. Was this some type of sick joke? Or was Dumbledore finally off his rocker? When he'd stared at Professor Dumbledore for a good ten minutes, the Headmaster had shifted uncomfortably under Harry's scrutiny and took the initiative to speak again, when Harry made no move to reply at all.  
  
"It looks like this is somewhat of a shock to you, but I am afraid that I have no memory of ever meeting you and as such, can't rightly remember your name. I would appreciate it if you would give it to me and perhaps explain why and how you ended up on Hogwarts' school grounds and in Gryffindor house robes."  
  
After a few more moments of tense, shocked staring Harry realized this was no prank.   
  
"Harry Potter, sir. My name is Harry Potter. And I've attended Hogwarts since I was eleven."  
  
"Potter, you say?" The ever-present twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes had dimmed considerably, and his demeanor grew grave suddenly. "And who exactly, Mr. Potter, are your parents?"  
  
Harry frowned at the question, he'd hoped that answering the first question would have Dumbledore laughing and saying that it had been a joke, despite what he had thought before giving his name. After all, the Headmaster was a good actor, he had to be dealing with the variety of people he dealt with on a daily basis.  
  
"James and Lily Potter, sir."  
  
"James and Lily? James and Lily Potter?" Dumbledore stressed the name Potter.  
  
Harry nodded, more and more confused by the second, temper rising a bit as well at not knowing what in the bloody hell was going on.  
  
Dumbledore rubbed his chin and stared off into space thoughtfully for a few moments and then looked at Harry again. "One more question, Mr.Potter, what was your year and date of birth, if you would?"  
  
"Uh, July 31, 1980, sir."  
  
"Ahh. Well that explains alot, doesn't it? This being 1978 and all. Just barely, of course, since it's only the second of January, but very definately 1978." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling once more in his good humor.  
  
Harry allowed the words to sink in and the bit of anger he had felt, fled. "1978, sir? How can this be 1978? I realize that would explain you looking alot younger and not knowing me, but that really doesn't make sense." And what really didn't make sense to him was how well the Headmaster was taking this, then again, Harry had always known that the older wizard seemed a bit nutters, at least to anyone who wasn't Dumbledore himself.  
  
"You're a wizard, Mr.Potter. Can you really think of no way for you to be nineteen years into your past?"  
  
Harry groaned as the last thing he remembered clearly before waking up with Dumbledore entered his mind. "That bloody thrice damned picture. That must've been it. Why does this always happen to me?" He covered his face with his hands and tried to sink into his pillows. "I haven't even defeated Voldemort yet! I've left everyone in my time defenseless!!" His hands curled into fists over his eyes.  
  
"Voldemort?" The Headmaster questioned softly, manner solemn again, and interested. "You actually speak his name? Then he's either not as powerful in your time or you don't fear him as much as everyone else does."  
  
"He killed my parents. I don't fear him, I hate him. He killed my parents and then he tried to kill me and gave me this," Harry lifted his hands and brushed his hair away from his forehead, indicating the scar found there. "It's from the Killing Curse. But I didn't die and---" Harry blinked in surprise to find Dumbledore's hand over his mouth.  
  
"It's never wise to know too much about one's future," the Headmaster intentioned softly.  
  
Harry nodded thinking that perhaps Dumbledore hadn't heard the prophecy, yet and the older wizard removed his hand.  
  
"Well, Mr.Potter, I never guessed when Mr.Lupin had said he'd found someone unconcious by the lake that this would be the outcome, of course I never guessed that I would ever hear Remus Lupin scream in such a manner, either." Dumbledore said, his eyes bright once more.  
  
Harry sat up straight as Remus' name was mentioned, the full situation just actually hitting him. He was in 1978, his parents' seventh and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He would actually be able to meet his parents, depending on how long he was stuck here, he would be able to get to know them and... His thoughts trailed off as he realized that Dumbledore was staring at him again.  
  
"Yes, Professor?"  
  
"Harry, I don't know how long your stay here will be, and obviously I can't keep you from training as a wizard during your time here, it would be immoral as there are obviously people depending on you in your own time. Athough, I seriously doubt it's a good idea to let you mingle with the other students, I shall allow you to continue your schooling. However, you will have to be re-sorted into a house other than Gryffindor because if you are put into Gryffindor now, you won't be in your future. The sorting hat will recognize your mind and any number of things could happen, it might even refuse to sort you. You will have to keep quiet about where you come from and change your name, at least your last one, because it will cause suspicions amongst the other students, do you understand?"  
  
Harry had figured that he would have to keep quiet about the future, that really wasn't such a big thing. Neither was changing his last name for the time being for the same basic reasons. Being re-sorted, however, was. He was really going to end up in Slytherin this time, he was sure, in Slytherin with Snape, and other future death eaters.   
  
Still, in exchange for time he would be able to spend with his parents, and his godfather again, it was definately worth it, perhaps he could get a room to himself and avoid the unsavory characters if he did, in fact, end up in Slytherin. And that was presuming that Dumbledore allowed him to speak with his parents.  
  
Harry caught the Headmaster's gaze. "Will I be allowed to speak with my parents? Can I get to know them?"  
  
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "I don't see why not, my boy. Do you have any other questions?" He raised an eyebrow and waited.  
  
The Boy-Who-Lived nodded and asked about seperate rooms. Dumbledore considered his question for a few moments then nodded slowly.  
  
"Yes, that would be best, perhaps. I would advise putting a glamour on you as well, so that you do not resemble James so strongly, but unfortunately, as Remus has already seen you that would be fairly impossible without tampering with his memories as well. And that's something I very much find distasteful, so you shall have to be prepared to suffer many questions about your likeness to James, I'm sure."  
  
Harry nodded and then watched as the Headmaster stood and the chair that he'd obviously conjured up, disappeared.  
  
"I will return shortly, Harry, with the sorting hat. Be thinking of a replacement for your last name and a cover story while I'm gone, please. Remember, it will have to be believable, the Hogwarts' rumor mill can be incredibly vicious."  
  
Laying back against his pillows, Harry watched the Headmaster walk from the room, mind whirling from everything he'd just found out. He really just wanted to lay there and allow his thoughts on everything that had just happened to him, it wasn't often he had semi-pleasant things occur to him, but he really had to follow Dumbledore's advice and think of something that would at least stifle a few of the questions that were going to be asked him and a new last name. Sighing, he decided to start on the simplest of Dumbledore's two requests first.  
  
A last name. At long last he wasn't going to be, 'the famous Harry Potter', he was going to be the not so famous Harry... well, something other than Potter, anyway. He was thinking about what to choose. He couldn't really make a name up, it would be hard to do and it had to be a somewhat realistic last name. It couldn't be anything long and difficult to pronounce, --Harry himself would forget it if that were the case-- anything anyone would recognize, --he couldn't very well say he was related to anyone-- and it couldn't be anything that would cause anyone to tease him. He'd hated being called Potty by Draco, he really didn't want to be annoyed in the same way while here.  
  
He would probably be safe with the last name Dursley, but there were so many horrible memories attached to the name that he didn't even consider it an option. So there was really only one last name that he could choose from the arsenal of last names he knew. Granger. Hermione's last name was not known in the wizarding world because she was muggle born, and Harry had never heard her get teased using her last name. Of course, he might have to put up with being called 'mudblood' now, with such a muggle sounding name, unless he could work it into his 'cover story' that he wasn't from England but a foriegn country.  
  
Harry sat up again as he heard steps heading towards the room, and was surprised when Dumbledore didn't immediately enter the room. Listening carefully, he heard voices speaking outside of the infirmary, which was the only place Harry had determined that he could be, really. What with the sterile feel of the room, and the starchy feel of the bedsheets, and all.  
  
Carefully, he listened to what was being said, wondering who could be outside of the door.  
  
"...has a clean bill of health, you may go in when I'm done speaking with him in a few moments. I'm sure you'll have plenty of questions for him."  
  
"Yes, professor, I do. It's not everyday that I find unconcious people after all. But, if I could ask, Professor Dumbledore, why do you have the sorting hat?"  
  
So it was Remus, Dumbledore had mentioned the werewolf being the one to find him. Harry would have to thank him; imagine what type of trouble he would be in if he hadn't had Dumbledore by his bedside to get him straightened out immediately when he'd woken up.  
  
"Ah! Well, our new transfer student has to be sorted, doesn't he? Don't worry, Remus, you'll be able to speak with Harry shortly, if you so desire."  
  
With those words Hogwarts' Headmaster entered the room and closed the door behind him, murmering something that sounded very definately like a silencing charm. That was probably for the best, Harry mused vaguely.  
  
"Well now, Harry, have you thought of a last name? I believe I have been able to come up with a suitable lie for your attending school here."  
  
"Yes sir, I'm Harry Granger, sir. Pleased to meet you."  
  
"Granger?" Dumbledore nodded, accepting the name. "Very good. It doesn't sound like anything anyone will recognize, and we can probably have you originate somewhere away from the English wizarding world so it will be natural that no one recognizes your last name."  
  
Harry blinked, unnerved once again by how well the older wizard was taking this and how easily the man seemed to read his mind, but nodded, curious to hear what story Dumbledore had come up with him to use.  
  
"Well, Mr.Granger, you're aunt and sole gaurdian died and left you attending a school in France. Granger sounds like it could be French, don't you agree Harry?" When the boy nodded the Headmaster continued. "As your aunt was not the most pleasant of people, you are not too broken up over her passing, but her last wish was that you attend Hogwarts' school and hearing of this, I extended you an offer for you to complete your seventh and last year of school here."  
  
Harry had smiled, amused at the thought of his fictional dead aunt probably being very much like Petunia Dursley in temperament, when Dumbledore had mentioned him not being too broken up over the passing. He commited the short, but ironclad story to memory, so as not to balls it up when asked about his circumstances in being here.  
  
"And now that that's over, we'll sort you." Dumbledore held up the Sorting Hat, which looked just as ratty as Harry remembered. Shuffling over to the bed, the older wizard held the hat over Harry's head.  
  
"Remember, not Gryffindor," the Headmaster told the hat sternly before dropping it onto Harry's head.  
  
A tiny voice whispered into Harry's ear. ~Not Gryffindor, eh? Well, only one place to put you, then.~   
  
"SLYTHERIN!"  
  
Harry cringed at the word, although he had been expecting it. He was being tossed into the snake-pit. Well, bloody hell.  
  
~*sparkle*~ Post Author's Note: This is the question answering corner! ^__^  
  
To Quila: I'm very much a Missy, just so you know for future scolding purposes, you got it right on the first guess! And as for the why Lupin was staring and the Lupin and Snape talking thing, I'm not telling, but time does move in a never-ending circle, you know, so you've probably at least got a good grasp why and possible things being said, but I do hope to keep all my readers on their toes, even with everyone knowing that this is a time travel fic.  
  
To silver-sunn101: If there are any people remotely like me, you have to add that bit of foreshadowing in a fic! ^_^ We never read summaries!  
  
To SailorBaby16: All will be answered in time, hopefully short periods of it, I'll attempt to update as much as possible, m'dear.  
  
Also thanks to the rest of you ~ spark'lin fire, cair, nhjdjghgh (very interesting name ^^;), Piper Of Locksley, Celebrana, Luna Chi Lupin Sparrow ~ for all your wonderful reviews!!   
  
If I've offended anyone by seeming condescending (as my friend tells me I am) with like, the interesting name comment, I apologize. I'm a bitchy person, or so I'm told. I do enjoy all the reviews very much and hope to get more! 


	3. Chapter III

Title: Transitus Aetas Chp. 3  
  
Author: batling  
  
Pairing: Remus/Harry  
  
Summary: Harry time travels back to the time his father was a student. Forced to remain at Hogwarts for a while, Harry pretends to be just another student. He needs some information, but he has a hard time finding anyone to trust: Sirius is too rash, James is a worse prick than Draco Malfoy, and Peter might be harboring treacherous thoughts already...so who to trust?  
  
Rated: Um...PG13, for now?  
  
Author's Note: Waaaaah! I'm *SO*, *SO* sorry that this took so long in getting out! I feel awful! Really, really awful. Half of this chapter was already typed and then my computer broke down and I wasn't able to finish it! But, it's finally finished, so read on and enjoy!   
  
Thanks to my big brother JephiMykes who was literally my guinea pig for this chapter and even though he doesn't share my penchant enjoyment for slash or implied slash he keeps encouraging me. Also thanks to Orenji Kankiku (Sally!) who also always encourages me and betas this story when I remember to send it to her so she can. *as forgetful as Neville* Anyways, thanks very much guys!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own or make any profit from Harry Potter.  
  
WARNING: THIS FIC WILL CONTAIN OR IMPLY SLASH, MALE/MALE RELATIONSHIPS, SPECIFICALLY HARRY/REMUS. IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT, GO READ SOMETHING ELSE.  
  
Chapter 3:  
  
After Dumbledore left the infirmary, Harry had only seconds to prepare himself for his first out-of-time experience. An experience that left him bewildered and very shaken -- nearly as much as the time travel itself had.  
  
The Headmaster's robes had barely enough time to follow him out of the door before a seventeen-year-old Remus Lupin barged through the sick room's threshold.  
  
Gold eyes filled with emotion -- determination, a slight hint of anger, and quite a bit of curiosity -- the werewolf marched right up to Harry's bed and leaned closer to him than Harry ever thought would be possible without outright touching, let loose a flood of questions.  
  
"Why do you look so much like James?" The Gryffindor asked demandingly.  
  
Having enough sense to attempt to look confused, Harry scooted sideways and a little bit away from the intense gaze of his former-- er, eventual, professor and tried to respond.  
  
"Who's --" Only to be cut off by another question.  
  
"Why were you wearing Gryffindor robes?"  
  
Harry again opened his mouth, "I--"  
  
The golden eyes again moved in to stop only inches from his own.  
  
"How'd you know my name out by the lake?"  
  
Harry's eyes widened. Had he mentioned Lupin's name when he'd been unconscious? He did talk in his sleep...  
  
The Gryffindor-Turned-Slytherin moved away from the werewolf again, "Wha--"  
  
"Why'd you transfer to Hogwarts?"  
  
"Becau--"   
  
Again Remus moved closer and Harry again slid over the sheets trying to keep his distance from the other boy.  
  
"Why did Professor Dumbledore allow your transfer so late in your seventh year?"  
  
"My--"  
  
"Why did he do it at all? He never accepts transfers! What's your name, anyway?"  
  
"I'm Ha--"  
  
"And which house were you sorted into? Gryffindor, I assume, since those were the robes you were wearing."  
  
"No, actually I--"  
  
"Where exactly are you from?"  
  
Remus' face was once more only inches from his own. This time, however, when Harry tried to escape the fierce gaze, there was nowhere to go and the green eyed boy promptly tumbled over the edge of his sick bed.  
  
"Are you all right?!"  
  
The Gryffindor let out the worried exclamation and rushed to Harry's side, moving as if to help him up.  
  
Harry made a sound of protest and crawled backwards a few inches on his hands, preparing for another barrage of questions. Remus noticed his motions and had the grace to smile sheepishly.   
  
"Sorry about getting carried away with all that. You unnerved me a bit when I found you and I get a little aggressive when I'm nervous."  
  
Harry nodded slowly, that did make sense. The wolf's instincts were a part of Remus and aggression in this form was likely to be conveyed differently than the snapping and biting shown during the full moon.  
  
Carefully, he shifted into a position so that he could stand and was surprised to find two hands helping him up. When he was standing, he looked at Remus.  
  
"Thanks. I'm Harry Po--, uh," Harry cleared his throat and tried to think quickly, "Harry Paul Granger. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance. My aunt and I lived in Paris, France and just recently she died. She wasn't the nicest person but she looked after me when my parents died, and there really wasn't more I could have asked for. She always hated that I hadn't been able to get into Hogwarts and it was pretty much her dying wish that I had. She never thought I had been good enough. So, when Professor Dumbledore heard about that, he extended an invitation for me to attend school here.   
  
This being my last year at school, and Hogwarts being the one of the best wizarding schools ever heard of, I accepted. Before I came I went robes shopping and could only find Gryffindor robes, so I bought them hoping that they could be changed when I got here," Harry glanced down at the garments in question which were now sporting the Slytherin House symbol with a bit of magic from Dumbledore he supposed, "And apparently they have. I was given a port-key, which I seem to have strange allergy-like reactions to on the best of days, and it so happened that I arrived where you found me, not where I was supposed to, unfortunately. I woke up here, was asked a few questions by the Headmaster and sorted into Slytherin. Have I answered all of your questions?"  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow, hoping that he had thrown Remus off his train of thought enough to suitably distract him, by answering so many questions at once. He really didn't want to have to answer some of the more difficult questions that the werewolf had thrown at him.  
  
Remus flushed a bit from embarrassment and focused on a space of wall right over Harry's shoulder.  
  
"Uh, sure," the seventeen year old muttered, wholly feeling the intense green gaze that had settled upon him.   
  
What in the world was going on? This boy looked so much like James, and yet he was sorted into Slytherin? And so late in the year? Certainly, this 'Harry' had answered his questions, but with much too much calm to be believed, or so it seemed to Remus.   
  
The werewolf shifted from foot to foot uneasily as the green eyes watching him seemed to gain interest and burn through him, leaving a fire-hot trail that settled somewhere in the pit of his stomach, weighing him down like a stone.  
  
This was too much, he needed space to collect his thoughts, figure out what --other than the fact that he was a near carbon copy of James-- was so familiarly striking about this new boy. And with those emerald orbs concentrated solely on him, the presence of one, Harry Paul Granger, was not the place in which to think.  
  
"Erm, I just remembered, I've got some, uh, work to finish. Welcome to Hogwarts, Harry. I'll see you."  
  
Harry blinked, breaking free of the daze that had surrounded him while he had been staring at the other boy, and watched as Remus beat a hasty retreat from the infirmary. He nibbled on his lip thoughtfully. He'd always subconsciously known that Professor Lupin was handsome, in a purely aesthetic way that is, but he'd never really dwelt on it.  
  
Just now, however, getting the chance to look at his professor as his equal had sent a shock to his system and shattered Harry's clinical analysis of his teacher's physique. Remus Lupin was a dead sexy seventeen year-old. Unfortunately for Harry, there wasn't much time to digest this new piece of information as a new person walked into the infirmary.  
  
----  
  
"Here is your room, Mr. Granger, I hope you find it well enough to your liking. I disagree that you should be allowed your won room out of the Slytherin dorms but Albus says that you need room to grieve. Be that as it may, Mr. Granger, I do not believe in mollycoddling my students. As your head of house, I expect you to interact with the other students in Slytherin.   
  
Since, however, I cannot override Headmaster Dumbledore's decision to place you in separate sleeping quarters, I expect you to be at the Slytherin table for every meal and at all of the Quidditch games. This is so that you will be able to interact with your housemates and show suitable house pride. The consequences will be grave if you disobey one of these stipulations without good reason. And, Granger, there are only two good reasons that I will accept. That you are either on your death bed or paralyzed, preferably both at the same time, understand?"  
  
Harry swallowed, intimidated --more so than he ever would have liked to admit-- by his new head of house, and nodded, knowing the man was expecting an answer. Ice chips of eyes narrowed as Harry gave no verbal response.  
  
"You will address me as sir, Granger, and be polite enough to make a dignified, verbal response when I am speaking to you."  
  
Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses. No wonder Snape was such a snarky git, he had so much to live up to --or down to in this case. He'd only known this man for a few moments, and he was already getting creepy vibes off of him worse than he'd ever felt with Snape.  
  
His potions' professor was an arse, but this guy was definitely evil. If the ice in his eyes didn't prove it, the ice in his demeanor did.   
  
"Yes sir, Professor Daawk." It took pretty much all of Harry's will power to force his voice to work. He felt mildly faint, and that in itself was something. Considering that he was a Gryffindo-- er, that he had been a Gryffindor, that is.  
  
"The next meal is in half an hour, I expect you to be there promptly. The password to your room at the moment is 'Salazar'. You are allowed to change it; however, you must keep Dumbledore and myself advised of your password at all times. I shall see you in the Great Hall, use the time you have to get acquainted with your quarters, if not settled into them."  
  
And with those parting words, Professor Daawk disappeared. At least, it seemed as if he had. One moment the professor was there, the next he was not; Harry hadn't seen him leave. And if that wasn't disappearing, not much was. Odd, how Harry had known him for a few moments, and malevolence seemed to roll off of him in waves. It seemed that his potions grades twenty years in the past weren't going to improve any.  
  
Sighing he turned to the portal portrait that he assumed he'd been brought to, only to suck in a deep breath. This was the room... He stared, shocked, at the moonlit forest painting --definitely not the portrait he'd been expecting, although, he hadn't actually been expecting any one in particular.   
  
He hadn't been paying attention to where Professor Daawk had been leading him, preoccupied with not upsetting his head of house before he'd even been in this era for 3 hours. And while the good professor had been lecturing him, his attention had been more fixed on his trainers than anything around him. Perhaps that was a good thing, the Slytherin Head hadn't been there to see his surprise, and that meant he didn't have to make up any on-the-spot lies. Although Harry seriously doubted that Professor Daawk would have believed any lie that he would have been able to make up.  
  
Really, though, the situation just kept getting stranger and stranger, and he really hoped that this was the extent of the strange happenings. No sooner than he thought the words did Harry groan aloud. Of course it was going to get stranger, he was Harry James bloody Potter! Not here though, his mind reminded him, unhelpfully. Here, he was Harry Paul Granger. Here he had a chance to get to know the people who were long dead before his memory had been able to record them.  
  
Thoughtfully, Harry ran a finger down the frame of the picture. Maybe that was actually true to an extent, he was being given the chance he had always wanted, wasn't he? He smiled slightly and whispered the password --which he made a note to change as quickly as possible-- to the picture, cheered slightly for the first time since he'd woken up, at least, for the first time since he'd been led from the infirmary by his Head of House.  
  
----  
  
Five minutes later found Harry waiting in front of the doors to the Great Hall, five minutes early for the meal, just in case, because he really didn't want to become acquainted with Daawk's bad side, especially when his good side had such a terrible bedside manner.  
  
He twirled his wand out of boredom while waiting, mildly glad that it had been in the pocket of his robes when he'd been transported here. He supposed it was really some amazing luck that it had turned out that way, but Harry'd never really been short on luck so he took it somewhat for granted.  
  
With a soft sigh, he leaned against the wall, knowing that he'd only been standing at the doors for a very short time, but also feeling very impatient with the slow pace everything was moving at, he wanted this meal to be over, this day and the next to be over, so that he could finally meet his parents. A sudden thought struck him, and his mouth went dry. What if he was gone before his parents got back? He'd never be able to meet them...  
  
His wand spun faster over his fingers, green and red sparks --appropriate, really-- fizzing half-heartedly from the end.  
  
"That's dangerous, you know."  
  
Harry's wand, with a final arc, spun perfectly into his palm, and his fingers clenched around the wood his teeth simultaneously grinding together. He would know that voice anywhere. Whether it were seventeen or thirty-some, it would always be the same irritating, smoothly flowing like brandy and then having the same after affect of the alcoholic beverage and burning in your stomach. Snape.  
  
Harry forced his teeth to loosen. Snape wasn't a professor here; he couldn't harm Harry in anyway. None, at all.  
  
"What does it matter to you?" He forced himself to say coolly; betraying emotion near Snape was leaving yourself open for a lethal wound. He'd learned that the hard way, more than once.  
  
The honey and vinegar voice soured a notch with its response. "I'd watch your tone, talking to a prefect. I can take house points, you know, Potter. I don't care if you're Head Boy or not. I thought you'd left for the hols. Or did your precious Mummy and Daddy decide that they couldn't deal with your obnoxiousness anymore?"  
  
Harry smirked coldly and turned to face Snape, whom he'd previously had his back towards.  
  
"Firstly, I'm not Potter, and secondly," he made a swift gesture to his robes, "would you really take points from your own house?"   
  
He arched an eyebrow innocently, amused at the expressions which were rapidly flickering over Snape's face. Enjoying the expressions for a few seconds longer, he again turned his back to his most hated future professor and stepped forward as the doors to the Great Hall swung inward.  
  
Leaving his sputtering 'house-mate' behind him, Harry stepped into the room and had to suppress a smile that, there were at least a few things that did not change. The Great Hall was one of them, it seemed. Briefly surveying the room, he frowned to see that Pro-- er, Lupin was not at the Gryffindor table. He almost took a step towards that same table, but then realized that he no longer sat there any more.  
  
With a faint blush, he moved as confidently as possible towards the Slytherin table, sitting with a few students that looked to be first years, not wanting to be anywhere near Snape and his crowd. Besides, there were fewer of the younger students staying than there were of the older years, and he really wanted nothing to do with an of the Slytherin house. So, the fewer, the better.  
  
After he had settled himself in, he saw Dumbledore rise at the Head table, and turned his attention towards the older wizard, ignoring the somewhat fearful, nervous looks he was getting from those sitting around him. The Headmaster looked over the students and nodded when he saw that he had their attention for the most part.  
  
"Alright, you know I don't like to interrupt meal-times anymore than I have to, so I'll make this as short as possible, although you'll probably be hearing it again when the rest of the students return. We have a new student at Hogwarts, who has been sorted into Slytherin. I hope you'll welcome him properly, as he's a seventh year and wouldn't have any trouble retaliating if you did not. Welcome to our school, Harry Paul Granger." Dumbledore's eye's twinkled slightly as he mentioned Harry's new middle name and he clapped softly, his example followed by the other students, in welcome.   
  
For the second time it seemed in as many minutes, Harry flushed, but nodded towards Dumbledore in thanks of the welcome, and much more as he was sure the Headmaster knew.  
  
"Alright, now that everything's taken care of on that front, tuck in!"  
  
The old man clapped his hands together one last time, and the meal finally appeared on the table. Harry put some on his plate, but barely ate a thing. His eyes were on the Gryffindor table for throughout nearly the entire meal, and Harry briefly wondered whether his absence of appetite was because of some potion he'd been given by Medi-witch in training, Madame Pomfrey, or if Remus had taken it with him along with his captured thoughts, where ever the werewolf had decided to venture off to.  
  
Probably the latter, although, it really didn't make much sense to him why he would be so put off by not knowing where Remus was and preoccupied with the other boy as well; he was his professor, after all. Still, he didn't remember the taste of dying things being in his mouth when he'd awoken in the infirmary, so he didn't really think that anyone had administered any type of potion to him while he'd been unconscious.  
  
----  
  
After the meal, Harry trudged towards the library, having been told by Dumbledore that he should be looking for a solution to his problem during his free time. He didn't particularly watch where he was going because he was also absorbed in another issue Dumbledore had informed him about. Classes. He had to re-choose his classes. Having to pick the first time around had been horrible for Harry, and now he had to do it again? The universe was completely unjust.  
  
Finally, after about twenty minutes of mindless wandering, the Boy-Who-Lived made it to the Library and walked in, absentmindedly wondering which section of the dusty tomes he should check first, and not coming up with anything particularly helpful, as he only just knew which section held the Quidditch books in the library and he knew where to find the Restricted Section, but as he was without a pass and without his invisibility cloak, the two places that he kept himself informed about in the library were completely useless to him.  
  
Mistily he puzzled over whether or not he should bother the librarian, and whether or not the librarian was still Madame Pince, but thought better of it when he saw a familiar and unfamiliar at the same time because it wasn't peppered with the grey he was accustomed to, ash brown, near tawny, head full of hair.  
  
Remus. It was amazing how quickly a title of respect evolved into a first name basis over a meal filled with thoughts about a person. With a grin, he strolled over to the study table and plopped himself across from his werewolf mentor- teacher turned fellow student.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Golden eyes snapped up from the book they'd previously been focusing on and widened when they got a good look at Harry. He snapped the book shut, a flush rising into his cheeks, and turned it cover side down quickly. However, it wasn't quickly enough, and Harry caught a quick glance of its familiar cover. The Boy-Who-Lived couldn't resist a slight amused smile.  
  
Doppelgangers. Did he really look that much like his father? He didn't think so...  
  
"Um...hi..." Remus finally spoke up, reciprocating his greeting.   
  
Harry's smile got a bit wider; whether from being pleased at the possibility of a new friend, or just very pleased with himself, the Boy-Who-Lived was feeling decidedly smug.  
  
"So, I never got your name in the infirmary this afternoon, and I can't really thank you properly for saving me if I don't know your full name..." Harry trailed off pretending to look around with interest at the filled bookshelves surrounding them.  
  
"I'm Remus. Remus Lupin."  
  
Harry refocused his gaze on the werewolf and smiled wider still, holding out a hand for Remus to shake.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Remus."  
  
Remus leaned forward and grasped his hand for as long as necessary, but not a second longer.  
  
"Very nice to meet you too," he murmured without much feeling, the fact that this boy was most definitely a Slytherin ran through Remus' mind. Even without his uncanny resemblance to James, Harry would have unnerved him; it was those eyes, the werewolf decided. They were bloody damned near inhuman. Very much like his own but so very different at the same time.  
  
And that smile unnerved him too. It didn't seem to diminish at all, only to expand, as if the world and everyone in it were something to be enjoyed, or worse yet, laughed at. Remus looked at his fingers a few moments before finally gathering the nerve to look up again, and was surprised to find that the smile was gone, and an equally unnerving expression of solemnity in it's place.  
  
"So, look, so far you're really the only person I've met, other than that greasy git that tried to take house points from me because he thought I was some bloke called Potter," Harry shook his head in a seemingly disgusted way, delighted that he had thought of adding that to his into his little speech --it was so Slytherin-- and then continued, "Anyway, I was wondering if perhaps you could help me choose some of my classes? I don't particularly like having to make educational choices," he flashed a grin at the boy across from him, "and I figured since you know the school, you probably know the classes and teachers too, and that you could maybe help me pick out a few good classes? If not I'll let you get back to your, very interesting I'm sure, research on doppelgangers."  
  
Remus blanched at the last sentence and looked at the boy sitting across from him. He'd hoped that he'd closed the book quickly enough, but it seemed he hadn't. Still, Harry didn't appear too concerned, so that ruled out the doppelganger theory, which had really been the best he'd had. Bloody hell.  
  
Having been caught, and pretty much proved incorrect by Harry's nonchalance, Remus went over the Slytherin's request in his mind, nodding slowly. There wasn't anything particularly threatening about his request, and, besides, not all Slytherins were completely rotten to the core. Just most of them.  
  
"Alright, I'll help."  
  
"Brilliant, mate! Thanks!"  
  
For the next half hour Remus and Harry went over the new Slytherin's interests and plans for the future, not that Harry had many he could tell Remus about. The fact that he wanted to outlive Voldemort wasn't something he could just blab out. However, there were other things that he looked forward to, and that he was interested in as well, so he and Remus discussed them.  
  
It wasn't until they were completely finished, and Remus was looking over the list he had scratched out on a spare piece of parchment for Harry that he realized that he'd advised the other boy to take every class that he attended with the Slytherins. Which was over a good half of them considering he was interested in Defense Against the Dark Arts and all it's techniques. Something that, apparently, also interested Harry.  
  
Still, there wasn't much he could do about it now, it would seem very odd to the Slytherin if he just started to change Harry's classes without being able to give a reason. So, what was done was done, and that was all that could be said about it.  
  
With a quick glance at the library clock, Remus blanched for the second time in one night and quickly began gathering his books. Curfew was in ten minutes, and it being the holidays Daawk was sure to be patrolling the hallways. He would get points docked if he wasn't in Gryffindor Tower soon. Even more than anyone else, simply because he was a prefect.  
  
"You'd better get to your dorm, curfew is in ten minutes and Professor Daawk is a stickler for it, especially over the hols."  
  
With that, Remus practically ran out of the library, with Harry quickly following at the mention of his Head of House's name.  
  
~*sparkle*~ Post Author's Note: This is the question answering corner! ^__^  
  
To Orenji Kaniku (a.k.a Sally): No complaints about Slash yet, m'dear, but I don't want to give anyone the wrong idea, you know? Besides, if someone complains about it, I'll just be scathing and evil. BWAHAHAHA! And the Sorting Hat thing...yeah...already thought of that, love...  
  
To Vasquez1987: Sorry, Harry's not going to be Hermione's dad in this fic. That would insinuate sexual contact with a female (or artificial insimination, which I have no desire to research...) and since this is a slash fic, it's definately not going to happen... ^^;  
  
To Quila: I completely agree. There should be more RL/HP fics. Do you think if we signed a petition something could be done about it...?  
  
Also thanks to the rest of you ~ Lady Phoenix Slytherin, ghvvc, insanechildfanfic, gaul1, and Krylancelo ~ for all your wonderful reviews!! 


	4. Chapter IV

Title: Transitus Aetas Chp. 4  
  
Author: batling  
  
Pairing: Remus/Harry  
  
Summary: Harry time travels back to the time his father was a student. Forced to remain at Hogwarts for a while, Harry pretends to be just another student. He needs some information, but he has a hard time finding anyone to trust: Sirius is too rash, James is a worse prick than Draco Malfoy, and Peter might be harboring treacherous thoughts already...so who to trust?  
  
Rated: Um...PG13, for now?  
  
Author's Note: Yay! I got this finished much quicker than the other three chapters although, unfortunately, I think it's sort of shorter ;__; It's not beta'd, so you'll have to forgive me (or beat me with a stick, I don't mind). I got to ginuea pig this one off on JephiMykes, Sita Seraph and Orenji Kankiku(Sally!). I have to pawn it off on someone to read, or I'd never get it out from self-consciousness and thinking it wasn't good enough! Ack! Think about how horrible that would be!  
  
Anyway, I'll try to have the next chapter out soon, enjoy this one, everybody! James Potter and the rest of the Marauders (excluding Remus since he's already there) finally make the scene!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own or make any profit from Harry Potter.  
  
WARNING: THIS FIC WILL CONTAIN OR IMPLY SLASH, MALE/MALE RELATIONSHIPS, SPECIFICALLY HARRY/REMUS. IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT, GO READ SOMETHING ELSE.  
  
Chapter 4:  
  
Two days later Harry was the first person to arrive at the Slytherin table for breakfast. Most students had returned to the school late last night or blindingly early this morning, and today classes resumed. Not many people were yet in the Great Hall for their first meal of the day, and that was quite the way Harry preferred it.   
  
He had enough to think about that he was probably going to have troubles digesting without the noise of the houses gathered for a meal, he didn't want to think about the what would happen if the room were as crowded as it usually was. As it was, Professor Daawk's sole presence at the Head table was enough to make him very uneased.   
  
Harry contemplated his first class, Potions, and the fact that he shared the class with Gryffindors, while he slowly sipped his coffee --one of the few things currently out on the tables.  
  
He hadn't seen Remus since the library two nights ago, and he was looking forward to a chance to see one of the only things familiar to him here. Then also there was the fact that, with Gryffindors in the class, that he would also possibly see his father, mother, or Sirius. The thought made him tingle with anticipation.  
  
Setting down his coffee cup, he worked a bit on his toast, before it became too dry to swallow and he began nursing the coffee again. His eyes took in every aspect of the room sharply, as it began to slowly fill, noting the differences that it held from his own time. When the room was about half full, Dumbledore entered looking a bit sleepy, but no less cheerful than he always was.  
  
After about fifteen minutes, when the room seemed to be completely packed and Harry was finished attempting to eat, the Heamaster stood, and cleared his throat gaining most of the students' attention. Harry took advantage of the distraction to shoot covert glances towards the Gryffindor table, in hopes of catching a glance of a very familiar headful of mussed black hair.  
  
"Now that you all seem to be here, and I have your attention, I would like to announce--"  
  
Three more students burst into the great hall, quite suddenly. The first, a pudgy boy with a pointed nose, who was somewhat non-distinct and although he led the trio, he faded into the background easily. If anyone paid a bit of attention to him, they would have heard him complain in a somewhat high-pitched voice about not having been woken up on time by Remus, as hardly anyone but Remus did; however, it isn't really important.   
  
The second, walked in much more slowly, with a confidence that was obviously ingrained. He strode towards his table, straightening his tie, though it seemed he had done nothing to straighten his short, touseled black hair. The last, with shoulder-length black hair, looked to be to putting a sock on and attempting to walk at the same time, which resulted in him hopping along oddly on one leg while bent over, a sock on one foot and his two hands tugging on it whilst his shoes dangled from his mouth from their strings.  
  
Harry's breath caught and Dumbledore cleared his throat once more.   
  
"It seems I was mistaken in thinking that you were all here, well, perhaps now you are... Boys, as I was saying," he glanced at the three, Peter flushed violently, while James and Sirius just seemed a mixture of amused and slightly embarassed, and then continuted on, "We have had a student transfer come to Hogwarts. And I hope you will all welcome him kindly. 7th Year, new Slytherin, Harry Granger."   
  
Again, Dumbledore clapped, and most of the students clapped a few times for propriety's sake, the only somewhat willing welcome he recieved being from the Slytherins. And even their applause was miles away from 'warm'. Harry glanced around the room, trying not to stare at James or Sirius, and not to scowl hatefully at Wormtail. An attempt in which he was fast failing, but as he quickly swept his gaze over the room, he noticed that he was getting more than a few interested gazes.  
  
Most from his own house that he didn't really acknowledge, but two that he wondered whether it was a good thing or not that he'd drawn, even though he'd wanted to. Still, he remembered the memory he had seen in Snape's pensieve and knew that at least that half of the Marauders considered Slytherins their worst enemies. Harry wondered if, despite his house, he could become friends with Sirius and James, the father he'd never had, and the father figure he had.  
  
He also noticed that the one gaze he wouldn't have minded so much had he drawn and caught it, the one gaze he actually would have rather liked meeting his own, was studiously ignoring him and focused downwards, on the Gryffindor table.  
  
After another twenty or so minutes, Harry was free to go get his satchel and supplies for class --that had been found in his room this morning, along with an empty journal, and a bit of money from Dumbledore, which he made a note to pay back in the future--, as the meal was officially over. The Great Hall emptied quickly, and Harry held back until the room was close to barren, but for a few stragglers (those who had come in late), not very concerned about being late as his room was on his way to class.  
  
Finally, he stood, and made his way towards the door only to be stopped by a pale, long-fingered hand on his shoulder. Harry paused and turned to look at the person connected to the hand, only to find himself looking Lucius Malfoy in the eye. The one adult that tied Snape for his position as number 2 on his 'loathing list' they were both just under Voldemort, of course. Which was fitting for the snivelling bastards.  
  
Harry lifted the other Slytherin's hand from his shoulder with two fingers, and dropped it as soon as he could without the possibility of the hand touching him again.   
  
"Can I help you?" Harry pushed out the words through his dislike, with the coolest voice he could manage, keeping a disdainful expression on his face and taking vague note of Snape standing just behind Malfoy. He never noticed a certain trio of Gryffindors walking up behind him in the opposite direction from where he and Malfoy stood between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables.  
  
"I simply wanted to welcome you to Hogwarts, Granger, as a fellow Slytherin. I am Lucius Malfoy," Malfoy pulled his hands together when Harry didn't make a move to except the hand he had extended for a handshake. "As well as give you some advice. No one can accuse me of not helping my fellow students, and as the Good Samaritan I am, I thought I would warn you. You have to know the right type of people, if you want to make it here. I hear you've spoken with Remus Lupin, is that true?"  
  
Harry withheld his smirk at Malfoy's words, remembering Draco's words nearly seven years before. The apple really doesn't fall very far from the tree. Of course, Draco had made this proposition at the age of eleven, which really spoke volumes about Lucius' maturity. Considering Malfoy's last sentence, Harry briefly wondered if Malfoy knew that this was a school and not a muggle Movie-Making Industry. With a mental shrug, he decided it really didn't matter, his second choice would be the same as his first.  
  
"So what if I have?"  
  
"Well, Granger, he's really not the person you want to be friends with, if you get my drift. I, on the other hand, am just what you need in a friend at Hogwarts." Lucius extended his hand again.  
  
Really, the similarities were beginning to become creepy, but Harry just raised an eyebrow and glanced at the hand before glancing back at Lucius, his own hands folded behind his back firmly.   
  
"I can choose my own friends, thanks."   
  
With another disdainful look at Malfoy's hand, Harry turned and upon noticing the three Marauders that were standing there, gave a slight nod at Remus, before walking away. He wished he'd been able to acknowledge Sirius and James as well, but as he didn't 'know' them, he couldn't. He couldn't help the smile that crossed his face, though, at the comment he overheard coming from Sirius.  
  
"...brilliant! No one's ever spoken to Malfoy like that before!"  
  
The Boy-Who-Lived wondered if Lucius was still standing there in shock at having been turned down, or whether the blonde was advancing on Sirius angrily for verbally applauding Harry. Well, Lucius wasn't really his problem at the moment, especially not if Sirius stuck his foot in his mouth.  
  
Having wasted more minutes than he would have liked with Malfoy, Harry didn't stop at his room for longer than it took for him to 'Accio' his possesions to him, before hurrying on to class. He was sure that if he were late to any of Daawk's classes, he would regret it for a very, very long time. Seeing as Harry had more than enough regrets in his life, he thought it wise not to arrive late today or on any other day.  
  
Harry arrived a few minutes early, and surreptitiously glanced around the room. It seemed that the entire room was partnered. It was also nearly filled, although there were a few empty spots here and there about the room, signaling students that hadn't yet arrived for class. Cautiously he headed toward the Professor's desk, and stood quietly for a few moments while waiting for Daawk to notice him.  
  
"Yes, Granger?"  
  
Harry startled and cleared his throat, speaking softly, "Am I supposed to have an assigned seat or partner, sir? I wouldn't want to impose on anyone..."  
  
Daawk finally removed his eyes from the parchments in front of him and glared up at Harry.  
  
"Partners were assigned at the beginning of the year, as well as seats. However, luckily for you, there is one person who is without a partner, and as such a free seat as well."  
  
Harry flushed, although he wasn't really sure whether the cause was relief or chastisement and nodded.  
  
"Who and where, sir?"  
  
Daawk, who had returned to his grading, lifted his eyes to Harry again.  
  
"Pettigrew. Over there." The Potions professor made a vague towards the right hand corner of the room returning his attention to his own work.  
  
Harry slowly turned and glanced in the general direction of Daawk's gesture, and held in the curse that bubbled up in him. Wormtail. Vaguely he wondered how the dirtly little rodent had made it into a N.E.W.T.s potions class. Not that Harry had room to talk, he definately didn't belong in this room for lessons, but he was certain to be better at Potions than Pettigrew. With the things he had heard about the rat from his godfather before he had died, even Neville would probably excel at potions compared to Peter.  
  
He slowly walked over to where the cowardly Gryffindor was waiting and sat in the free seat beside him, after moving it as closely to the wall as possible. The traitor looked at him.   
  
"Hi, uh...I'm Peter..."   
  
Harry snarled at him, and the other boy's eyes widened, his voice fading away into nothing.  
  
"Don't talk to me, Peter," Harry sneered, his voice low, "because I'm not your bloody friend. We'll work on the assignments together and nothing more, so bugger off."  
  
Peter nodded and quickly turned his eyes towards his text in fright. Harry felt his contempt for the person he'd thought of as 'the rat' since third year, grow. How pathetic was he, not even standing up for himself? It was no wonder he turned to Voldemort, what with weakness leaking from his every pore, he was likely easy prey for the Dark Lord. With one last scowl towards Pettigrew, he turned his attention towards the lesson which was divinely free of brewing anything.  
  
Unfortunately, being free of everything but practical studying, the lesson also ended ten or so minutes earlier than it normally did. Generally, this would make Harry ecstatic, but when the end of class actually came he was wishing it hadn't.  
  
As Harry had spent most of the period in what seemed to the other students to be completely inexplicable rage, he hadn't taken much stock of his surroundings. He hadn't noticed the two people sitting in front of him, nor the two sitting behind. He hadn't seen the four people whom had witnessed and heard his outburst at Pettigrew.   
  
Remus, had been somewhat stunned when he heard Harry speak in such a way. Granted, he'd only known the boy for only a few days longer than his friends and no mistake about it he was odd --the fact that he was near identical to James, for instance--, but he'd only witnessed Harry being polite, with only a touch of coolness to show he was displeased with something, or happy in a way that very much reminded him of Sirius and James. Sirius, being his partner, had told him about the spat in the Great Hall, so seeing this --what seemed to be seething hatred-- from Harry surprised him.  
  
Sirius, on the other hand was a little disappointed, after witnessing the spectacle between Lucius (who was also in the potions class) and Harry only a scant hour before, he had almost been ready to believe that all Slytherins weren't completely bad. However, Harry's behavior towards Peter had him doubting himself a tiny bit. Although, not very much, because when he thought back to first year, he could remember the instant dislike he'd taken to Pettigrew, even though after a few months he had accepted the shy pudgy boy. It was pretty cool that James and Harry looked so alike. If he didn't turn out to be a complete prat the pranks they could play with that particular fact were unnumberable.  
  
Lily, who hadn't had any interaction so far with the new boy didn't really know what to think. It was strange how closely resembled James and she guessed that Harry had perhaps made friends with a few other Slytherins and became aware of the inter-house rivalry. And so had decided to act out on that at poor Peter. She wasn't sure, however, and had merely frowned disapprovingly on the entire situation while reserving her judgement for another day.  
  
James, however, was an entirely different story from his friends. From his first glimpse of the new Slytherin in the Great Hall before class, until he had walked into the classroom to see the Slytherin standing in front of Professor Daawk's desk, James had been greatly unnerved. This Slytherin wore his face. This other boy walked, talked, and looked like him. A strange, cold feeling had formed in the pit of his stomach and settled there, feeling very much like a foreboding. Since in James' experience, forebodings were not something to be glad about, James had felt wary with the new boy sitting directly behind him, and right beside one of his friends.  
  
With Harry's first words to Peter, the wariness had deepened into innate dislike, and by the end of the lesson James had worked that into absolute loathing. And he was going to let the Granger boy know exactly how he felt.  
  
As soon as they were dismissed James followed Harry from the room, waiting until they were safely away from the classroom, before shoving him against the shoulder with an open palm, making the Slytherin stumble a bit.   
  
When Harry righted himself, he turned around slowly, dreading to see he had pushed him. He found himself staring into hazel eyes that were set in a face near identical to his own. He raised an eyebrow, forcing himself to ignore the not that was newly formed in his stomach.  
  
"You think just because you're a bloody Slytherin that gives you the right to walk all over anyone? What'd Peter ever do to you?" James gave his shoulder another shove.  
  
Harry looked past James at Pettigrew, eyes sparking in hatred. "Peter did nothing to me, however, your friend is weak --hearted and minded-- and I don't associate with weak people. They care for none but themselves and they're betrayers as well as liars." He watched as Peter's eyes grew wider with each word before turning his gaze back to James. "Gryffindor or not, mark my words, he'll betray you. He's nothing more than a rat."  
  
James stiffened at the last words to pass from Harry's mouth, the look in his green eyes all too knowing, and James attempted, for a few moments, to stare the other boy down. Three other pairs of eyes were staring also. Two of them were scrutinizing little Peter Pettigrew thoughtfully, who reddened under their gazes, while the third was watching the stare down between James and Harry intently.  
  
Remus noted the minute things that showed up in Harry's posture and attitude, differing from James, but resembling someone just as familiar although he couldn't remember who. Sirius and Lily were watching Peter carefully, remembering again how at first they had not trusted this shy boy.  
  
"And you just know so much about Peter and the rest of us, do you?"James broke the stare first, glaring hatefully at the Slytherin.  
  
"I know more than you would think, James Potter." Harry spat out, fairly uncaring if he let out that he was from the future.  
  
James eyes widened. "And just what do you mean by that?" the Gryffindor straightened up defensively.  
  
"Exactly what I said. I don't make a habit of saying things I don't mean." Harry scowled, shook his head, then turned, and walked away heading towards Dumbledore's office.   
  
James, having been there many times before, and thoroughly unnerved by the new boy's emerald gaze called out after Harry. Expecting all types of treachery from the Slytherin, he figured it best to warn Granger that he would not back down, no matter what.  
  
"You can go running to the headmaster, but it will only make matters worse for you, Granger!"  
  
Harry's hands tightened into fists, but he continuted on his path to Dumbledore, figuring if nothing else he would perhaps be able to get a slip from the head master about missing his next lesson --Transfiguration-- as well as having someone to confide him, as he was the only person in all of Hogwarts who knew exactly who he was and where he was from.  
  
Of course, he would probably be chastised for saying some of the things he had. If anyone really thought about it, it would be simple to figure out just where he was from. Reaching Dumbledore's office, he realized that he didn't know the password and simply stood there, staring at the griffin statue.  
  
After a few moments, he shook off his reverie, and the sadness of not being able to get to know his father as he hoped threatened to consume him, but it couldn't be helped. Harry slowly moved on and headed towards the Transfiguration classroom.   
  
----  
  
For four long weeks, Harry had attended lessons with Hogwarts Class of 1978. He had managed to for the most part avoid Lucius, James and Pettigrew like the plague, other than during potions of course, and had made tentative friends with Lily, Sirius, and Remus. Likewise, he had managed to make every class, meal, and curfew on time.   
  
Until tonight, that is. Now he was wandering around the dungeons far after curfew, trying to find his way back to his room. He'd been called into Daawk's class for a lecture on his abysmal potions grades and when he'd heading back to his room he'd made a wrong turn somewhere. And now he would swear that he was being followed, footsteps sounding behind him every so often.   
  
Harry heard the footfalls behind him again, louder this time, and quickened his pace. Only to have, much to his dismay, whoever he was now sure was behind him do the same. Finally, after an unnumbered amount of steps, Harry spun to face his shadow.  
  
"What to you bloody well want?!" He all but shouted, his caution forgotten in his agitation at being followed.  
  
"Tsk, tsk Harry. No need to get testy. I was simply wondering why you were wandering the dungeons this late at night, seeing as you have your own quarters and all. Lumos."   
  
A light appeared at the end of his stalker's wand and a shadow detached itself from the wall to reveal Severus Snape, the bane of Harry's Hogwarts existence, past and future, it seemed. Still, Harry relaxed, glad that it wasn't someone who wanted to do him serious damage like Lucius Malfoy or, worse yet, James who had become Harry's Draco Malfoy of this time.  
  
"Snape." The name fell from is mouth bitterly but nothing else passed from his lips as Snape's cold, black gaze regarded him.  
  
"You confuse me, you know. Any of your Gryffindor bosom buddies would use the nome de plume that James Potter so kindly," Snape spat the last word, "bestowed upon me." The Slytherin paused as if collecting his thoughts. "But you use nothing more than my last name; although, with a malice that I'm certain I did nothing to deserve. Why is that I wonder?" He mused quietly. "Why is that, indeed? You look very much like James, you know. Close enough to be related in some way, except for your eyes. It's a wonder that you don't act exactly like him."  
  
"I am nothing, nothing like James Potter," Harry spat furiously, near enraged that Snape would suggest such a thing. After having had a few weeks to get used to this time, and having seen first hand how large of a prat his father actually was, he'd gotten over the initial sadness, hurt and confusion --even though he'd been half expecting the discrimination from James-- and had accepted the fact that he really was nothing like his dearly departed parent.   
  
He'd come to see that James really was nothing more than a teenage delinquent in his time, although hopefully he'd outgrown it when he'd gotten older and had married Harry's mum. When he'd had a child, and had been a father, as short a time as that was. Thinking about it, though, Harry wasn't so sure. His parents had been married only a few months out of Hogwarts and had, had him only a few years or so later. There really wasn't enough time for James to grow up, in Harry's mind. Graduation was only a few months away and then another three years, and how long was that, really?  
  
"If you're nothing like him, then, you must have a reason for hating me. James certainly doesn't. So let's hear it. Why do you hate me, hmm?"  
  
Harry started at the question. He did, in fact, have a reason for hating Snape. But he couldn't exactly tell the Slytherin what that reason was. That would go over very well, saying, 'In the future, you're my potions teacher and you've made my life miserable with your vile demeanor for nearly seven years.' The whole school would hear about it and think he'd gone nutters.  
  
"Well, er...you see, I don't actually have a reason. You just... remind me of someone and-- it was wrong of me to take it out on you. I'm sorry."  
  
Snape stared at Harry in the dim light as if he'd suddenly grown a second head.   
  
"Wha- What did you say?" the future Potions master stuttered --yes, stuttered-- out.   
  
Harry scowled and crossed his arms, somewhat defensive and not very prone to repeating apologies, especially not ones given to the greasy git. "What? I apologized. Haven't you ever had someone apologize to you before?"  
  
Solemnly, Snape shook his head.  
  
Harry blinked. He hadn't been expecting that.   
  
"Oh."  
  
~*sparkle*~ Post Author's Note: This is the question answering corner! ^__^  
  
To Arafel2: Hope you're happy with the level of Snape tolerable-ness. Don't ask me to make Pettigrew tolerable though. We have to have *someone* for Harry to hate. ^-^  
  
To Orenji Kaniku (a.k.a Sally): *runs away at the mention of hardcore anything -- is a powderpuff*  
  
To Quila: d00d. Of *course* there's going to be angst! Angst is the food of the soul. And if I do say so myself, there was quite a bit in this chapter ^-^  
  
To Emma Lupin: I wasn't really planning on a certain persuer, it so happened that Harry started with the persuing, so it will probably continue that way. However, if I do any of the *blush* hardcore sex that Sally wants, Remus will probably top. But I think it's possible for a dominant bottom, really. And, nope. Definately no girly Lupin.  
  
Also thanks to the rest of you ~ Arigazi, Doneril, gaul1, Jen, Kage Miko, Sita Seraph (I can't believe you reviewed! *swoon*), the person who left no name only a blank space (I didn't know it was possible to leave the name space blank), April, and Krylancelo ~ for all your wonderful reviews!! 


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